


TTOW- The Transition of a Wrecker

by GabbyGabbyGabby



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Cover Art, Introspection, My First Work in This Fandom, Pre-The Transformers: Sins of the Wreckers, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Roadbuster Becomes a Single Dad, Set Between Last Stand and Sins of The Wreckers, Wreckers, religious ritual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 18:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20475536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabbyGabbyGabby/pseuds/GabbyGabbyGabby
Summary: Set between Last Stand of the Wreckers and Sins of the Wreckers.Roadbuster asks for Mortillus to provide him with a purpose in his life with the end of war impending.Also being stuck on what feels like an empty spaceship makes a mech think. A lot.---(In-depth character study and Rung happens to have a major problem with Roadbuster's religious choices.)EDIT I FINALLY GOT THE COVER TO BE EMBEDDED! Yeehaws all around!





	TTOW- The Transition of a Wrecker

**Author's Note:**

> I have NO social media. Nope. No twitter. No tumblr. No nothing. I've gotten rid of everything a while ago. So if you see someone online saying that they wrote this they probably didn't. I just feel like I need to say this before it bites my own butt. If you want to chat with me just post a comment. 
> 
> Cover art made by Fjordline on tumblr. Go and commission them; good quality product and a nice person overall. 
> 
> This story focuses on Roadbuster. He makes some bad decisions and he's sobering up to the idea of having another mech by his side. 
> 
> A MAJORITY OF THIS ARE FLASHBACKS.
> 
> Springer of course is still stuck in a coma and Impactor is busy with Guzzle pillaging random outposts that contain the smallest trace of Decepticon activity. 
> 
> I have no beta. I honestly don't know where to find one. I wanted this to be a zine/novella but (AGAIN) I have no social media to distribute it. 
> 
> If there are any grammar or lore problems just comment below and I will get back to you as soon as possible. I think this novella is my swan song for my love of Transformers. I haven't been crazy about Transformers ever since Requiem of The Wreckers came out. 
> 
> This novella (if you want to call it that) is totally SFW. Read it on a plane. Read it in your car. Read it at work. Read it in class. Make an audio-book of this story in your bathroom. Do whatever you want. I'm writing this for fun.

Cover Art:

(EDIT: I finally got it put on here. I hope y'all like it! Again the cover was made by Fjordline. Seriously go commission them!)

(ANOTHER EDIT: I give up I'm not a computer nerd. Here's the link to the cover. I'll be busy losing it elsewhere.) 

LINK: https://imgur.com/wTwGNOr

\---

Mortillus provides.... He provides security through war, that my purpose will never be unnecessary. I remain functional until death.  
  
Everyday, after talking to Springer, I pray to Mortillus for security. My life is in his wrathful servos. I pray to him for war in a world that is starting to get comfortable with peace.  
  
I fight for him. I my spark pulses for him. He spoke to me.  
  
I know this.  
  
He has not spoken to me in a long time.  
  
I do not know what I have done to deserve this... I still pray to hear his voice once again....  
  
But do I want his voice? Of course I do.  
  
But what about the last time? Last time I spoke about him in my mind I ended up speaking to a mech named Rung of all names. He doesn't know what it is like to speak to someone truly immortal...  
  
\---  
  
"Oh Mortillus! You have forged my burning spark with your wicked servo! You are eternally spiteful of those that dream of peaceful nights...."  
  
"Oh Mortillus! You strike those in love with a world without war with your sharp sword. You strike those believing in a world without war! A world without war is a world without you!"  
  
\---  
  
"Roadbuster, tell me what you think of my new blaster... I'm trying to come up with a name for it.."  
  
Guzzle lifted a new blaster, only a few paint transfers were spotted on the handle.  
  
"It's..."  
  
"Amazing? Phenomenal? Could I even say... Wrecking?"  
  
I cringed internally. Sadly my face mask makes it physically impossible of doing so externally.  
  
"It's The Judge. Your same gun from before. Did you apply a new coating of paint?"  
  
Guzzle became cross.  
  
"What? No! Roadbuster don't you see? It's a new and improved version! It's like the Judge's child!"  
  
I didn't have any comment for Guzzle's new toy. I'll be hearing this new gun of his a mile away in the shooting gallery. I pick up my own frame and started walking to my own habsuite.  
  
If I think about it...  
  
Guzzle gave me a pretty wicked idea...  
  
I think have a new use for an old gun as well.  
  
\---  
  
"Oh Mortillus!"  
  
I call out to him in the darkness of my habsuite... I know within my own spark that he will hear me this time...  
  
My shrine for him has only gotten larger by the vorn. The framed image of Mortillus in all his glory was surrounded by congealed innermost energon from past decepticons that piqued Roadbuster's religious interests. A collection of melted and new candles almost as large as the rust sea are scattered across the floor of my bleak room. My suite is for Mortillus and nothing more. A proper recharge has not happened in what feels like megavorns. Lighting a candle for the next fight in hopes that Mortillus will bless the wreckers has become commonplace. Tonight, of course, is a little different. Holding up the largest metallic candle I opened up my own chest plates revealing my burning spark. Above the blinding blue light of my spark Mortillus' name was engraved into the sensitive inner metal.  
  
" I call out to you Mortillus! I need your undeniable and uncontrollable power for the birth of a new spark!"  
  
The sound of my voice booms through my room as I pull the candle closer to my own spark lighting the wick with a bright blue flame. I can feel my frame waver a little thinking about what I am about to commit to. A child forged with the prayers of Mortillus weighs on my mind...  
  
I couldn't be happier with the idea of bringing another wrecker into this world that will pray by my side to Mortillus.  
  
"I live for this eternal war that is your child...  
  
I fight until deactivation for you, Mortillus!  
  
I align myself with the mighty Autobots!  
  
Against the evil and vile Decepticons!  
  
I ask for you to bless me tonight with a new life!  
  
He will fight and pray by my side for you, Mortillus!  
  
Bring a new life onto this war ship tonight!"  
  
\---  
  
The stars shine through the small window in the medbay.  
  
"See that Springer? That star system there? That's the same system that we fought in when you first joined you as a wrecker under Impactor. I can still remember the day you smiled at me and told me how we are going to be next to each other for a long time... Here we are. Still together again... Yet not in the best of situations..."  
  
I sigh.  
  
It really hasn't been the same since the entire Overlord incident. Before Springer's little human friend left it was a little bit more bearable but she was spending most of her time crying. At first I thought it was pathetic and then I was curious. Are organics like Verity able to produce that much liquid from their eyes?  
  
I guess I'm bored, not curious. I've just gotten so bored from having little to no major missions and being stuck with two spastic mechs onboard. Guzzle and Impactor are going to be the end of me somehow. Or probably Impactor will be the end of Guzzle or maybe the other way around.  
  
But for a while Guzzle has gone silent. No more loud dense metallic tarnish music blasting from the shooting range...  
  
I think I might honestly go to the shooting range now that he isn't there. I need to polish up on my skills soon, but if I really want to be honest with myself, I don't think I will be on the battlefield anytime soon without Springer by my side. It's just not the same.  
  
Impactor heard me speak about Springer being gone while drinking engex together and he told me to try out syk while fighting. _ It always gets the gears turning _ from what I remember Impactor saying.  
  
I don't see myself starting _ another _ addiction anytime soon. 

  
From what Ring? Rang? Rung? The _psychiatrist_ told me... He told me that I have an addiction to Mortillus' acceptance.  
  
Well... if I actually listened to him during the government assigned therapy I was forced to be a part of I would know what he _ actually _ said.  
  
I heard a loud beep coming from the communications console next to Springer's internal readouts. The mech trying to contact me happens to be... Urgh... The psychiatrist of all mechs again.  
  
...  
  
...  
  
Cool...  
  
Right as I open the communications line his voice speaks sharply.  
  
"Roadbuster. I have unfinished business with you and I am not giving up on you. Regardless of how much you want me to."  
  
\---

  
My spark casing is still open. I grab the largest weapon I still have in my ever-growing armory. The paint on the gun I reach for has been sanded away from the amount of times I have utilized it in fights. I remember first receiving the gun when I came to Earth to fight Megatron and his close knit posse. I can still remember when Wheeljack placed this gun into my own hands. Tonight is the night that I really give this gun a proper name...  
  
Holding the gun up to my spark chamber... I feel a little... scared?  
  
Maybe my scared isn't the right word. I feel anxious.  
  
The idea of doing what I am about to perform isn't the craziest thing that cybertronians are capable of. Thinking of what deplorable acts that Shockwave or Jihaxus have committed in the past makes me think that what I am about to perform seems... totally sane.  
  
"Heh, if I offline my visor, I can still remember how it sounded like when I first shot you. Sadly, your first shot was your last. The autobots did not have enough energy for you to live much longer. Hopefully the power from within my spark and Mortillus' blessing will be enough to bring you to life." I set down the gun right in front of me with the central panel sliding open. I have only heard of turning an object into a sentient being only at a pilgrimage event for Mortillus worshipers. I hope that this doesn't end up with half of the ship in ruins like a quantum engine explosion...  
  
I reach into my own spark letting the sharp pain shoot through my own armor... My internal wires feel as if the protective coating is melting off. I pull a small strand of my energy from my own spark. If anyone else was in the room, they could have probably heard the low pained groan I made as the energy string split off from my spark. Grabbing for the chalice of innermost energon with my free hand, I submerge the energy strand into the hand forged metal chalice.  
  
I then wait for the mixture of my blue spark energy strand and the bright pink innermost energon to create a viscous magenta liquid. After swirling the pink-purple solution in my heavy chalice, I then poured the entire solution into the central panel letting it soak completely into the ports and internal wiring. During all this, I completely forgot to close my spark chamber. I was so wrapped up into not making a single mistake that I completely forgot about myself. The last time I was this focused was when I had to talk to Bumblebee of all mechs. He talked my audio receptors off and Prowl analyzing my every word wasn't helping...  
  
While I was busy closing my spark chamber and thinking to myself I didn't even realize that the central panel already snapped shut. The fact that I didn't even send the command to close made me brighten my visor in curiosity. Is he already online? Can he transform? Is he okay? Looking at the glowing frame of the gun in front of me I think he can answer all of my questions somewhat soon.  
  
Suddenly, his frame started to make small sounds. From whirrs to clicks he started to form a sound quite similar to the sound I make when I transform into my tank mode. Leaning down toward the gun, I reach out with my left hand resting it onto his barrel.  
  
Out of nowhere, he starts to transform into his newly constructed robot mode. From what it seems it isn't going as well as he wants because the first sound he makes is a whimper as two legs forming from the bottom of the barrel. Two hands spring out from the handle and a small head with a bright pink visor pop from the middle of the gun. His entire body fits into both of my hands.  
  
As I was about to ask him a small question his vocalizer buzzes with one word.  
  
"Designation?"  
  
I have no clue if he was asking what his designation was or if he was asking for mine. I think telling him what my name is would be a good place to start. Taking this one step at a time is going to be commonplace from now on.  
  
"My name is Roadbuster. I am a wrecker that aligns with the Autobots. I have brought you to life with the holy power of Mortillus."  
  
The small mech beneath me only responded with a short nod until he raised a small digit pointing to his own armor.  
  
I guess he really was asking what his name was. It probably has to do with internal coding of some sort.  
  
I'm no Ratchet or First Aid, so for the time being I will say that this is all the work of Mortillus and his divine work in this world of eternal war.  
  
Thinking about it, I remember I gave this same gun a name when Wheeljack first placed him into my rough hands. I want to not only tell the newborn mech but also Mortillus out of respect.  
  
"Mortillus has given you life!  
  
I have sacrificed a portion of my own spark for you!  
  
I have brought you to life to fight and pray by my side!  
  
Your name reflects your status as a weapon of war!  
  
You shall be named Apex! Mortillus welcomes you to a world of carnage and endless war!"  
  
\---  
  
Fire. All I can see are fields of fire. Embers fly across my visor. The ash collects in my vents. The fight is over. I have already killed every Decepticons in my sights. Fresh energon has covered the battlefield in such a way that every look at the ground is a sickening sight.  
  
I see the battlefield as my kingdom. I will always be the predator as long as Mortillus speaks to me with his omnipresent and powerful voice. Every word he speaks is a prayer that I will say a thousand times more. Springer doesn't comment whenever I speak of Mortillus. He only looks away and moves the conversation onto another topic. Impactor says that I am... devoted to my belief of Mortillus and his wicked power. If I had a beast mode I would roar to the suns above this planet that I have reigned supreme over all deprived Decepticons.  
  
\---  
  
Looking out to the horizon all I see are rolling hills of pure wastelands. My audio receptors pop and crackle from the sudden changes in altitude as I drive down and up hills with unhinged speed. I can only register the sounds of eroding metal crunching painfully underneath my heavy military tires. The pilgrimage of Mortillus worshipers is today and I cannot be late. At the end of the energon harvest season all worshipers of Mortillus join together for one night at the edge of the Rust Sea. I cannot wait to meet those who believe in the same deity that I do.  
  
I feel a little bit more nervous than I should about this event. I've never been one to make... small talk... Every conversation I have ever had up to this point has been some form of briefing or purely military information about upcoming missions.  
  
I'm not the most social mech when I think about it. Even before the war broke out the idea of walking into Macadam's on race day would send shivers up my spine. Hopefully, there will be one mech that has the same social problems as me so I feel a little more... normal...   
  
The falsified images of how the event will probably go flashing in my obsessive mind makes the drive less excruciating for me... That is until I need to perform my yearly prayer in front of the entire congregation... I have always been off planet so this is my proper first time praying to Mortillus with another person beside me.  
  
\---  
  
My voice booms throughout my room. I see Apex's visor flash a little as he curled his small servos around one of my digits. He's small and Mortillus has blessed me with a chance of proving to myself that I can be responsible with the life of another mech through this entire war.  
  
If Apex offlines it will only show to Mortillus that I am not worthy of greater things in life. This war will kill me before Apex even receives one scratch on his small servos.  
  
Looking back down at Apex I can see that he already has a small fear of my voice. His small servos are slightly shaking with his visor not staring back at mine.  
  
Something about my voice being dark and deep has been noted duly by my own Autobot comrades and cadets alike.  
  
I can still remember the one time that an old cadet of mine told me that my voice sounds like the Autobot equivalent of Tarn. The same cadet also said that my voice is scarier than Tarn but of course, he said it behind my own back. That was very smart of him. I don't think he would survive a one on one spar with me to teach him a proper lesson about respecting your own commander.

  
Oh. Apex reaches out seeing that there was a small droplet left of innermost energon left on one of my digits. His small intake panel opens up revealing an old fashioned intake port. His port looks similar to a waste disposal bot before the war.  
  
Thinking about it, I kinda miss the small interactions I had with waste disposal bots. They weren't trying to get something out of you aside from any waste you had laying around. One small waste disposal bot would tell him small stories about his day and how he was always excited to clean up a new mech's room.  
  
Hopefully, over time Apex will become more talkative as he gets used to socializing. Frag... I really need to start at square one with this small mech...  
  
Apex reaches over to the small droplet and tries to taste the innermost energon. Most mechs believe that bots with an old fashioned intake are incapable of taste. I have no clue how the rumor started, but seeing Apex reeling from the sharp distinct taste of potent innermost energon stamps that rumor to dust.  
  
"Heh, can you not handle the taste of a little bit of innermost energon?" I couldn't hold back a little bit of laughter. His small visor scrunched up as he tried to spit out the fluid onto the palm of my hand.  
  
I didn't mind at all. I've been in worse situations than having a minuscule bit of innermost energon splattered onto my hand.  
  
"Here, let me get you some sweet energon. You'd probably like that being a new spark and all."  
  
I opened my subspace for a small cube of sweet energon. What made it so sweet was a mystery to me but lots of younger mechs love it. I can still remember Rodimus chugging a full sized cube exactly how Impactor would when he was handed a cube of engex after a hard fight with Squadron X.  
  
As I crack open the seal on top of the cube I see Apex look up at the glowing liquid. I slowly place the cube next to Apex. I completely forgot about bringing a swirly straw so Apex will need to just lap up the energon using the suction function with his intake port.  
  
Looking at Apex's visor flashing in glee made my spark feel warmer than usual. Seeing him drink from the edge of the container with both of his small servos holding the cube made Roadbuster chuckle a little.  
  
The more I think about having a mech by my side made the idea of an eternal war seem less... boring? Excruciating?  
  
Whatever I was feeling, I knew that deep down I was really looking forward to having a pure mech like Apex by my side.  
  
Mortillus has truly blessed me today...  
  
\---  
  
Surprisingly, a majority of Apex's initial gun design was kibble. He's probably only twenty percent of how big he used to be. If I am going to be honest with myself I still have no clue what the kibble was used for...  
  
Wheeljack still hasn't given me any blueprints. I think when he said that the first shot will be the last he wasn't talking about the engineering behind it.  
  
I think he was really just done dealing with that gun with what he had on hand at the time. Don't blame the mech when I tried to tinker around the internals.  
  
I repaired most of Apex before bringing him to life. It would sound just idiotic if I didn't fix all internal and external repairs beforehand. I also don't want to hand Apex over to Wheeljack or Brainstorm now that he's alive. He might end up a K-class micro bomb or completely vaporized.  
After Apex finished his first meal in the wicked presence of Mortillus, I called for cleanup like a normal Wrecker.  
  
\---  
  
I got up with Apex still in my hands and left the room even before the cleaning drones sent a confirmation ping. I don't even know where I am walking because all I can focus on is Apex curled up in my large servos.  
  
Do I deserve him? Thinking about the sins I have committed to my cadets in the past through Mortillus' divine voice made the general population untrustworthy of me. I cannot change their thoughts on me regardless of how hard I try today. Unlike organics, mechanical sentient life tends to remember everything that isn't repressed. Unless external force is used of course, that's where Prowl's best friend Chromedome comes into play. The idea of that guy leaving Prowl for an archivist for all mechs is kind of ironic.  
  
That's probably just my opinion because from what I have heard from other mechs on Autobot forums that they are the iconic conjunx couple that mechs dream of. I know better than the average Autobot; I know that Prowl planned this entire relationship from the start.  
  
Chromedome's relationship with his conjunx is nothing more than propaganda for The Galactic Council to believe that mechs are truly capable of having loving relationships with other mechs. I know this, Impactor knows this, hell, even Springer knew about it before he went offline. Rewind is nothing more than a small pawn in Prowl's large chess game that is this entire war.  
  
At least Rewind doesn't need to face the real music that comes with eternal war or even truly accept it. Hell, most of his archiving information shows the Autobots only in the best of lights. I know for sure that Chromedome has erased most to all information Rewind has on the truth and confidential information about Autobots.  
  
Still, I want to take Apex to the wash racks on Debris. I tend to forget about my own well-being and hygiene... I might be covered in sandy dust from missions ago. My entire frame is now one color from the amount of missions that I have avoided a proper cleaning. My hands are also covered in a mixture of innermost energon from the prayers and normal energon from Apex trying to drink without a straw.  
  
I really need to buy him one from Swindle soon. He always has a good deal. Contrary to popular belief, he actually gives a pretty good deal since he said the war is 'over' from his previous private messages.  
  
Yeah right. The day the war ends is the day Mortillus ceases to exist. Cybertronians were born through conflict and will only live with conflict. There will always be two sides. 

\---  
  
Surprisingly, a majority of Apex's initial gun design was kibble. He's probably only twenty percent of how big he used to be. If I am going to be honest with myself I still have no clue what the kibble was used for...  
  
Wheeljack still hasn't given me any blueprints. I think when he said that the first shot will be the last he wasn't talking about the engineering behind it.  
  
I think he was really just done dealing with that gun with what he had on hand at the time. Don't blame the mech when I tried to tinker around the internals.  
  
I repaired most of Apex before bringing him to life. It would sound just idiotic if I didn't fix all internal and external repairs beforehand. I also don't want to hand Apex over to Wheeljack or Brainstorm now that he's alive. He might end up a K-class micro bomb or completely vaporized.  
  
Apex has two emotions. Scared or tired. If he isn't sleeping he's scared out of his mind. He's too shy to leave my side. I've tried to get him to meet Springer and he remained soldered to my chest plates.  
  
And he sleeps. A lot.  
  
I really think that it has to do with energy conservation but he really isn't that great at conserving energy either. It takes him half his tank to transform. One shot knocks him out entirely.  
  
Thinking about it now... I fully understand why Wheeljack told me that I only had one shot.  
  
Apex now is sleeping in my arms. He's tired from walking from Springer's hospital bed to my habsuite.  
  
Now that I have him in my arms; I pray to Mortillus for his guiding light of death. He guides me when I do not know what will happen in my own future.  
  
"Oh Mortillus! Speak to me today for I have my creation in my arms! Bless me with your omnipresent eyes and wrathful hands..."  
  
\---  
  
Every time I come back to sit down next to Springer's prone body I think back...  
  
I can't stop to remember the things the medics and scientists did to wake Springer. From injecting past wrecker's innermost energon into his internal cortex fluid within his spine to even using brute force to wake him up.  
  
I've tried everything on my behalf too. I've tried talking, shouting, crying... actually I'm happy he didn't hear me hitching my intake vents. If Impactor told Guzzle I probably will never hear the end of it.  
  
Thinking about Guzzle...  
  
Thinking about... everything...  
  
That's all I've been doing now. There's no more war to keep myself mentally busy. I'm no longer thinking about fighting strategies and fantasies now that I'm rotting away.  
  
While Guzzle dances with his metal creations I am busy burdened with the thoughts in my mind. Trying out that small shot of dark engex that Swerve sent me wasn't a great idea. I have no clue who gave him the communication codes for Debris, but he has been a good mech to talk to when a day became a little too silent. At first I thought he was joking when he said the fluid was black like an oil reservoir.  
  
Thinking about it now... I'm realizing that Swerve probably pranked me with a shot of actual oil reservoir fluid.  
  
...

I need to stop thinking so much.  
  
I also need to think about a new prank to get Swerve back.  
  
\---  
  
"Hey Roadbuster! How was it like doing nothing?"  
  
Urgh.... Guzzle is back from training. I'm tired of him trying to push me around.  
  
What am I saying? I am the commander and current first in command of the Debris while Springer is in a coma. Why is some stupid cadet still ticking me off?  
  
I need to put my foot down.  
  
It's not if, it's when at this point. I'm done with his disrespectful behavior.  
  
"What? Cyber-rat got your vocalizer? What's with the long face?"  
  
How can I even make a long face? This is some form of humor that I only experienced with Verity.  
  
"Hah! Get it? You have no face! For a commander you really don't know how to put your foot down! Haha! I'm cracking myself up! Without Springer being around you've been spineless. It's the funniest thing in this star sector!"  
  
You know what? Frag it. I've had enough.  
  
"Guzzle. Face me. I've got a couple comments for you."  
  
Guzzle turned around to face me. I actually wasn't expecting that. He looks pensive? Rung taught me that word and I think that's the best word to use right about now. Emphasis on the word think.  
  
"Guzzle. I'm officially done with your attitude. I am your commanding officer. Either respect me or I veto you."  
  
"Oh so I have to bow down to you now? Seriously? You think I ever listened to Springer even when he was alive? That's so cut-"  
  
" **ENOUGH! Springer is still alive!** "  
  
I didn't even know I could get this loud. I think I have royally snapped. Guzzle backs away from me. He probably think I'm actually going to put my foot down onto him.  
  
I think Guzzle only listens to the most violent one. He really thinks Impactor is his commanding officer.  
  
You know what? As of right now, I think putting my foot down literally sounds like a good idea.  
  
"You have been disrespectful to not only me, but also Springer. He is alive. He will wake up from this coma and come out a better mech. I've had enough of your attitude. I've had enough."  
  
I slam my foot down on his frame. I regret this a second later seeing Apex's frame in the shadows of the hallway. Or so I think... Everything I believe in is playing with me. Even my own wrecker comrades.  
  
I lift my foot off his frame and hear a gruesome crunch of a shattered frame moving. Guzzle isn't making a word but I can see his optics sparking and his servos twitching.  
  
I know I should bring him to the Medbay and deal with him. I'm sure Impactor wouldn't mind a chore. I'm not in the mood to deal with anything. I open up a private communication call with Impactor.  
  
"Hey. Outside of the training facility Guzzle is waiting for you. He's not in a really good shape. I think you should deal with him."  
  
I barely heard Impactor's confusion before I closed the call. I'm already half way back to my habsuite. One could say I am running away. I would crush anyone that even thought about saying that in my face right about now.  
  
By the time I open my habsuite door I see no one but Apex curled up on my recharge slab. He's trying to recharge himself and I can tell that he is failing.  
  
I need to tell him about what happened. Or I can just sweep it under my slab. Every extra minute of silence is only making Apex more and more on edge.  
  
I choose silence. I don't even know if Apex can hear. All I know is that I'm tired and that Apex needs help falling asleep.  
  
I know I will need to bring up what happened before to him. That's for another time.  
  
Right now I want to pray to Mortillus in front of Apex to help him fall asleep.  
  
I can bring up what happened later...  
  
"Mortillus forgive me..."  
  
\---

END OF CHAPTER ONE…


End file.
